by Emma
save the tooth she knocked out and stuck it back in, but i
hadn't had time to go to the dentist. I'd rummaged in the
kitchen drawer for some glue we had, scrutinized it very
carefully to make sure it didn't say anything about being
toxic and stuck my tooth in with it. I'd been absolutely sure
that morning to put the tube of glue in my bag in case my
tooth fell out again, and it did. We were provided with a
salad lunch with prawns and my tooth fell out right in the
middle of my heap of prawns. Luckily for me, Betty was
Sitting next to me.
'Betty,' i whispered, hoping that nobody else had seen
what happened. 'My tooth's fallen out and i can't find it
anywhere.'
She scratched around my plate with a fork until she found
it. 'There it is,' she said.
i grabbed it and rushed offto the ladies' loo to stick it back
in again. I didn't dare eat any more lunch and prayed it
wouldn't fall out in the middle ofmy interview. Then Dorothy
99
i
Steves came and sat next to me, introduced to me b- Peter,
the producer. I'd heard of Dorothy. She trained dogs for
films and had a very famous dog in the past called Radar, a
most notable four-legged film star. He was a German
shepherd who, in his day, was probably more famous
than any Hollywood actor. Poor Dorothy had hardly had
time to get herself seated when Peter dropped his bombshell.
'Now then, Dorothy. i particularly asked you to come up
to train one of these dogs. You've got quite a choice, there's
about thirty here.' He waved a hand round to indicate the
many dogs. 'Could you train one to do something that you
would do in a film, say, just to show the public how you
work?'
i could see the look of horror on Dorothy's face. 'You
mean you want me to get one of these dogs trained for the
programme?'
'Well, yes, of course. You can do that, can't you? You do
train other people's dogs for roles in films.'
Dorothy nodded, speechless.
'How aboutmy poodle?' Peter said. 'He's overthere, look.'
i glanced over to a sweet little apricot poodle who was
standing on his hind legs, waving his front paws madly in the
air, trying to get to all the bitches in the room.
'How old is he?' Dorothy asked.
'He's seven i think, but he's a charming little dog,' Peter
assured her. 'I'm sure you could train him.'
'But it doesn't work like that. i just can't train a dog in a
few minutes to do something.'
Peter looked at his watch. 'You've got two hours. The
programme doesn't start until two o'clock.'
'You can't train a dog for two hours solidly,' Dorothy
explained. 'You can only teach them for a minute or two at a
time otherwise they get bored, and i have to have the type of
dog that i can work with.' i could see she was beginning to
feel desperate, for it was rather a lot to ask.
'I'll leave it with you,'he said with great confidence. 'Look
around the room, you can have any dog you like.' He went off
expecting miracles.
ioo
All this time, Bracken had been sitting gazing at Dorothy
with loving eyes, pushing her hand occasionally with his
nose. i have met many dog trainers but none like Dorothy
Steves. Her attitude towards dogs was completely dillerent.
She was calm, quiet and reassuring. No sergeant-major
bellowing. And I knew by her attitude that she could weigh a
dog's temperament up within minutes.
'You can have Bracken,' i told her. 'He's quite used to
obedience training and he likes you. l~m sure he'd do
anything for you.' Dorothy, was fondling one of his cars and
looking down into his face.
'That is kind of you. i do think that he would work for me
and perhaps i could teach him to do just a little something
within the time. Do you mind if i just go and take him for a
walk before i make my decision?'
'No, fine.' i handed over his lead. There are very, very few
people that i would let take Bracken for a walk, let alone
entrust them with training him, but i had a feeling about
Dorothy and i knew that her methods of training would be
persuasive, not forceful. Within a minute or two they were
both back, Dorothy smiling, Bracken wagging his tail with a
look of eager enthusiasm about his face.
'Yes, I'm sure we're going to get on. What I'll do, if you
don't mind, is keep taking him away, just for a couple of
minutes, and bring him back to you for a rest.' i had no idea
what Dorothy was teaching him to do or whether he was
responding to her, but every time she appeared and took his
lead from me he wagged his tail and went off with her with
great eagerness, so i knew she was using the right approach
as far as Bracken was concerned.
Betty had also been talked into taking part in the
programme. She was given the producer's poodle: they
were having a little quiz to start with for the audience - six
dogs, six owners and they had to match the dogs with the
right owners. Betty was dragged in to be a handler and she
was given the poodle.
'What do you have to do?' i asked her.
'Nothing much. I just have to sit there with the poodle
ioi
until the owner comes for him. When they've done the
competition they're going to show six owners and then six
of us handlers with the dogs.'
'That should be fun,' i said. i love matching dogs to
owners. It was five minutes to ON AIR time and the studio
was crowded. The audience had been invited to bring
along their own pet dogs and i think there were more dogs
than people. i had to do my interview first, then hand
Bracken over to Dorothy and, as she was now showing
Bracken working, i decided not to do his retrieving act.
The first part of the programme was the quiz. i watched
Betty with her little apricot poodle, while the cameras
scanned the dogs, the handlers and the owners. Betty had
bitten off rather more than she could chew by offering to
hold the poodle as he continually tried to mate dogs either
side of him and cried if Betty thwarted his efforts.
'Can't you keep that poodle still?' one of the cameramen
asked her. There was no sound coming on at this point, it
was wild tracked with music. 'Will you stop him mating
with that bearded collie! It doesn't look very nice, does it?'
Betty was flanked on one side by a bearded collie and
on the other by a large, friendly Irish wolfhound - not the
type of dog suited to a toy poodle, but that didn't seem to
daunt him at all. i was astounded at Bracken's good behaviour.
Not only was he surrounded by dogs he'd never met
before, but by ducks as well. The sheepdog that had been
brought in was demonstrating herding, but as the studio
was far too small to hold a flock of sheep some ducks were
brought in for her instead. Bracken was fascinated by
them and lay, ears pricked, watchi
ng every movement.
My interview over, i handed Bracken over to Dorothy and
went to sit at the back of the studio so as not to disturb
him. He sat by her side looking up at her with a strange
look in his eyes and i was beginning to wonder whether he
would do the work. But, as soon as she asked him if he
was going to show the audience what he'd learnt, a kind,
warm expression came into those lovely eyes of his and his
cars came forward, waiting. She took him off the lead, told
i02
him to wait and walked across the studio. Then she
beckoned to him.
'Come slowly,' she encouraged. She was demonstrating
how he would take the part in a film of a very sad dog. Each
paw he put down on the floor very carefully. Very slowly he
moved towards her. She patted her hand on the floor and he
lay down. 'Put your head on your paws,' she encouraged him
quietly. Bracken looked around the studio weighing up the
audience, perhaps looking for me. My heart began to pound.
Was he going to do it?
'Put your head down on your paws,' she asked him again
quietly, and he did, very sadly. He lay there, head on paws.
He looked so sad I found myself believing him and tears were
stinging my eyes. The audience broke into spontaneous
applause and Brackenjumped up in the air, wagging his tail,
as if to say, well, i was only acting. I'm not at all miserable
really.
i found it incredible that Dorothy had taught him to do
such a convincing act within a matter of minutes and that
she'd used no force, no loud voice. She had just asked him
kindly if he would co-operate. It also left a very deep
impression on me that Bracken had enjoyed doing his act so
much and, after reading Dorothy's most moving book about
Radar, i realized that there were lots of things i could teach
Bracken to do.
Radar had been one of those very rare dogs who would do
anything Dorothy asked him. His fame over here was mainly
in Softly Softly, the police series on television. Radar could
answer the telephone, chase and apprehend a criminal, save
a baby from a burning building - to mention just a few of his
feats. And it became a challenge to me to see if Bracken
would be capable of doing any of these things, not for film
work because Dorothy is always the expert on that, but just
because Bracken enjoyed learning. And, almost immediately,
he was given the opportunity to prove whether he could
act or not.
i03
i
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
W A S A P P R 0 A C H E D by a French television company who
asked if I'd be interested in doing a short piece of film for a
documentary programme. i agreed on the condition that if
they wanted to film Emma, it would only be for a short
period and i was the one to say when she'd had enough. She
was an old lady by then and i needed to protect her from
these things. If i wasn't careful, Emma would be dragged all
over the place just for people to see or film her. She'd
deserved her retirement, so i only let people photograph her
or film her if i felt she wanted to do it.
It was snowing heaven's hardest when the first two of the
French crew arrived: jacqueline and jean. They could only
speak very little English but i managed to understand who
they were. jacqueline was the programme researcher, jean
the producer. i realized, with a sinking heart, how difficult
my day was going to be whenjacqueline managed to tell me
that none of the crew that were arriving later could speak
English at all.
'In fact,' she told me, 'they should have been here to meet
us now. i think they are lost.'
'Where are they coming from?' i asked. 'Why weren't they
with you?'
'Some sort of slip-up in the arrangement. We came to
Birmingham Airport and they arrived in at Manchester.'
'But Manchester's miles away,' i told her. 'Why didn't
they come to Birmingham too?'
'We didn't realize which would be nearer,' she explained,
'not knowing where Nottingham was. And also, I'm afraid
we haven't got a hotel.'
i was horrified. The thought of going into a strange
country, not knowing where to go and not even having a
i04
hotel booked would have worried me, but they didn't seem to
mind. It wasn't difficult to find them a local hotel, but what
was difficult was explaining how they were going to get there.
i found the best answer was to put everything down on
paper, so i drew them a map.
'I think we'd better wait a little while,' said jean, 'for the
other members of our crew.' They waited, and waited, and
evening drew in. Eventually they decided they must go to
book in at the hotel, leaving me with the very dubious task of
explaining to four French-speaking crew what had happened.
They arrived at about eight o'clock. They had, of course,
got lost from Manchester and it had taken them nearly all
day to find Nottingham. i ushered the four of them into the
lounge and gave them hot drinks. i couldn't believe that
none of them could actually speak English, so i stood in the
middle of the room and looked round. 'Are you sure none of
you can speak English?' i said. They all stopped drinking,
looked up at me and grinned. 'Well, it's no good because i
can't speak any French and how am i going to tell you what's
happened tojean andjacqueline?'
'Ah, Jean etjacqueline,' they repeated.
'Yes, that's right. They've gone to their hotel.'
'Hotel?' one of them said brightly.
'Yes and you must go to your hotel, otherwise the
reservation on your rooms will be cancelled.' They all sat
there grinning at me. One of them, a huge man well over six
feet, with enormous feet I'd never seen the like of before
(afterwards i found out he was the cameraman), stood up
and went to the front door. i had to stop him - i couldn't let
them go out. i ran to the front door and put my arms out over
it. 'No, no. You must wait. My husband will take you to the
hotel when he's finished his surgery, but you must wait.~
He threw his hands apart and talked a lot of French at me.
i took hold of his arm and managed to drag him back into the
lounge. We had decided, Don and i, that it was far easier for
him to take them round to the hotel than trying to explain
and let them get lost yet again. i had to wait a whole hour
before Don had finished in the surgery and the time was
spent with me monotonously filling their cups with tea and
coffee. It ended up with us all sitting round in the lounge and
every time i looked at one of them or moved, they all gave me
a big grin. This reduced me to hysterical laughter and then
they all started laughing. When Don came in, he stood at the
door looking round in astonishment.
'What's so funny?' he asked me.
'I don't know,' i said, wiping the tears from my eyes. '
they don't eithe
r.'
All six of them arrived promptly at eight-thirty the following '
morning to start our day of filming. The snow was still thick '
on the ground and i was a little worried about Emma's part
in the proceedings. i tried to make jacqui understand that if
Emma didn't like the snow or was tired then we'd have to
give up filming. Jean was relying on me to show him where
the best place to film was and i walked up the lane opposite
our house to the field, trying to demonstrate that Emma and
Bracken would walk up there and back, Bracken leading
Emma with her lead in his mouth. Once i felt
understood, i fetched Bracken and Emma. Emma was
thrilled with the snow. Despite the fact that she was sixteen,
she still revelled in it.
'Okay,' i shouted to Jean who was waiting at the bottom
of the drive, camera and sound-men positioned, 'we're ready
to start!' Nothing happened. 'We're ready when you are!' i
tried again. Still nothing happened.
Jean came walking up the drive. 'We are ready?' he asked
in broken English.
'I've been trying to tell you that,' i explained. i realized
the day was going to be fraught with language difficulties,
but Emma's piece of filming, luckily, went smoothly.
Bracken took her up the lane to the field and back again
without any technical hitches. Then we had a lot of mock-up
filming without Emma. jacqueline described to me what
Jean required: a picture from Emma's eye view of Bracken
leading her, which meant Bracken walking from the field
down the lane to the main road, with the camera behind him
at Emma's eye level. Jean positioned the cameraman - the
huge man with dark curly hair and big feet - behind
Bracken, with the heavy camera on his shoulder. He was so
big, he almost had to crawl along the ground to get Emma's
view. He secured the end of Bracken's lead round his wrist
and all was ready. Don had come out to help with the filming
in his lunch-break. We were told to stand at the bottom of
Baulk Lane, which was quite a steep hill, and call Bracken to
us when we were given the signal by Jean.
'It will be better if i whistle to him,' Don said.
Can you move round the corner out of sight?'jean called.
